Wrap in bandages

Usage examples of swathe.

They rode with a particularly wary air about them, and dark burnouses wrapped their heads and swathed their faces.

She barely acknowledged the greetings and festive wishes from the staff as they cut a swathe through the crowd, the minglers parting like the Red Sea as they moved across the room.

Lower down, the trees gave way to brambles and great swathes of ramsons, their small white spikes just beginning to bloom.

But he cut something out, and he sewed up the wound just as the doctor told him, very neat and natty with six stitches, varying considerably in size but tied off with good tight knots, and we then smothered the area with sulphonamide powder and swathed the patient in bandages.

And a far cry from either the tinselly fortune-teller with her rhinestone glasses, or the antique bird woman at the United Nations, swathed in black.

At bottom right an official, swathed in a tricolor sash, inspects the disposal of bodies while a figure beside him makes notes in a register.

Before Vinter could respond, an elegantly coiffed woman suited in Chanel and swathed in sable, came out of his booth and politely interrupted.

Let the wind roar above and the ice bang the shore rocks, the Aleut swathed in furs sleeps sound close to earth.

Night, and beneath star-blazoned summer skies Behold the Spirit of the musky South, A creole with still-burning, languid eyes, Voluptuous limbs and incense-breathing mouth: Swathed in spun gauze is she, From fibres of her own anana tree.

A swathe of portal destruc- tion had swung across the million-star volume all around Leseum back in the time of the Arteria Collapse, leaving only the bunched Leseum systems themselves connected inside a vast volume of backwardness.

In the background a tall figure swathed totally in a hooded burnoose, his hands concealed in its sleeves, nodded.

The English had killed thousands in Caen, then burned farms, mills and villages in a great swathe east and north.

The Christchurch townsfolk stood huddled about the Bridge of Avon, the women pulling tight their shawls and the men swathing themselves in their gaberdines, while down the winding path from the castle came the van of the little army, their feet clanging on the hard, frozen road.

They were swathed in woolens and furs, mittens and earmuffs, knitted caps.

Just as things come ripe, the creatures always set their webs, sewn with perfect zigzag seams, across the swathes of grass, jewelweed, goldenrod, milkweed, and burdock behind the sagging barn.